


Horoscopes and Coffees

by vrepit_nah



Series: KlanceTropeMonth (2020) [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Barista Keith (Voltron), Cute Keith (Voltron), Dating, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flirting, Flowers, Fluff, Happy Ending, Happy Lance (Voltron), Horoscopes, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Love, M/M, Mechanic Keith (Voltron), Meet-Cute, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pick-Up Lines, Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Pretty Lance, Smitten Keith (Voltron), Smitten Lance (Voltron), Supportive Lance (Voltron), Sweet Lance (Voltron), Tailor/Taylor, journalist lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24439432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vrepit_nah/pseuds/vrepit_nah
Summary: Day 5, 19-Pining, Hurt/ComfortKeith meets him at the coffee shop for the first time and ends up taking a special spot in Keith's heart.But something else is going on that confuses Keith. Maybe it's witchcraft or magic, because it both terrifies and comforts him that his horoscope relates to him on a personal level. Every single day.Too personal.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: KlanceTropeMonth (2020) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762543
Comments: 8
Kudos: 201





	Horoscopes and Coffees

The first time Keith sees him, it’s early in the morning and the coffee shop has been opened up for only two minutes. The sun has just risen and traffic outside is slowly building up, but morning rush hour is half an hour away, and this customer is the first they’ve had today, and the first Keith has seen of in all of his shifts at the coffee shop.

With curly brown hair and small baby blue eyes that move too fast and a sweet, toothy smile, it’s no wonder Keith shop doesn’t jot down the order and instead feels his throat dry up.

The customer is the prettiest man Keith has ever laid his eyes on. Even his clothes, a nice blue button down with a grey tie, despite how dull the combination is, makes him look good. Strong arms pull against the fabric of his sleeves when he adjusts his bag over his shoulder.

When a hand waves in his face, Keith snaps out of it with a hot face and an apology on his tongue. He’s about to speak when the man asks out of the blue: 

“You like reading horoscopes?” Even his voice is nice, cheery and smooth.

Keith fumbles with the newspaper on the counter and he realizes the customer is still waiting for an answer. “Um, yeah,” he mumbles, folding it and stashing it underneath the counter. “Just a silly habit.” He quickly rings up the customer’s order and passes it to his coworker, a blonde named Romelle.

Romelle snickers as she makes two drinks for the customer. “Keith here believes in the stars.”

Keith blushes furiously as the cute boy in front of him grins. “It’s a pastime.”

“I like reading it, too. It’s fun seeing how many different ways the journalist can say the same thing for all the signs. What’s your sign?”

“Scorpio.”

“Leo.”

“Oh, we shouldn’t get along too much, then,” Keith says but he knows, one more smile from the customer and—

_ Whoops, he’s smiling _ . “If you don’t like me, just say it. I’ll get coffee from the shop across.”

Keith’s eyes narrow. “Galra Café doesn’t know how to make coffee even if they were given step by step instructions. I heard someone got poisoned there once.”

“Really?” He asks curiously, leaning on the counter that separates them. “I thought someone got stabbed there.” They exchange grins. 

Romelle hands Keith the drinks, and he places it in front of the stranger. He frowns. “Forgot to ask your name.”

He leans forward, fingers brushing when he takes the two coffees. “It’s Taylor.” One last smile before he exits leaves Keith a little shaky in the knees.

*

Every day after that, Romelle and Keith spend the first two minutes after opening to read the horoscopes. If it wasn’t a tradition then, it sure as hell is now, and Romelle always chuckles at Keith’s fiery blush every time they open the section, because she fucking  _ knows  _ he’s thinking about Taylor. 

Every day after that, Taylor comes in at the exact time in the morning, orders the same two coffees—one for someone named Allura—Taylor’s boss, and the other for Taylor himself, and smiles that same brilliant smile that makes him think Keith is suffering from some sort of heartburn or cardiac arrest.

And every day after that, Taylor and Keith always exchange words, how their days went, and Keith was surprised with the amount he talks because it takes Shiro - on a good day - to get him to chat a full-blown conversation that doesn’t revolve around only their jobs. 

Keith finds himself telling Taylor about his motorbike which he built himself, and he preens when Taylor looks awed. Never getting this kind of attention when he grew up from anyone meant Keith was milking this, flushed red all the time, and Romelle always takes the chance to make suggestive comments.

And maybe every day after that, Keith likes to see Taylor leave just so he can properly admire him walking away in those grey slacks-clad, sinfully long, lean legs and that tight a—

This morning, however, doesn’t go according to routine.

Keith had been waiting for a job response from a mechanic shop he applied to a few weeks back, and he was hoping to score it because this was his dream! And he loved fixing cars! But they replied with a negative, and so Keith spent the whole of last night sullen.

It didn’t stop this morning, when Romelle bound in with the daily newspaper and flipped it to the Horoscopes page. Keith barely glances at it and his coworker frowns.

“Let’s see, Libra: love is just around the corner, in disguise and waiting for the right time to come to you. Keep your mind open and most importantly—” she notices Keith isn’t listening and nudges him. “What’s wrong?”

Keith ties his apron and takes a rag to wipe down the counter. “Nothing, ‘Mel.”

“Your scowl says otherwise.” 

Keith tosses the rag and leans on the counter, absently reading the Horoscope for Scorpio. It basically summarized to ‘challenge yourself or something.’

“Didn’t get the job.”

Romelle places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Oh, I’m sorry, Keith, I know how much you wanted that.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

The bell hanging above the door to the café rings and Keith looks up to find Taylor striding in, beige pants and pink button-up shirt that does wonders for his eyes. His bright smile involuntarily makes Keith smile back.

“Good morning, guys.”

“Good morning, Taylor! On it,” Romelle immediately says and rushes to the coffee maker.

Keith nods a greeting and rings up the order quietly.

Taylor’s smile dims. “Keith?”

“Yeah?” Keith looks up and finds Taylor’s brows furrowed deeply. “Sorry, did you say something?”

He shakes his head, leaning forward to prop his elbows on the counter. “You don’t seem yourself today. Is something wrong?”

And again, Keith talks. He manages to explain how he got rejected for the job he wanted and spills even more somehow. How bad he feels about it because he’s wanted this position since forever. Taylor is open the entire time; blue eyes trained on him only, even as his coffee is slid to him. When Keith finally stops speaking, his cheeks flush.

“Sorry, I just—”

“It’s okay,” Taylor says gently, smiling. “I think you needed to unload everything you’ve been feeling so far.” Hesitantly, he reaches out to touch Keith’s hand before pulling away. “And I’m here to listen, alright?”

Keith nods, bites his lip, rubs the spot Taylor touched. “Thanks, Taylor, I—I needed that.”

“And don’t worry about the job, I’m sure you’ll get one better.” Taylor runs a hand through his curly hair and takes the coffees, sips on his and hums. “Romelle, wonderful as always.”

Romelle chuckles and waves.

Keith watches as Taylor hefts his brow shoulder bag. He winks at Keith. “See you tomorrow, Scorpio.” And he walks out. His hips move gently with each step and Keith is unable to look away.

Well, he feels much better.

The next morning, Romelle gets the newspaper and reads out Keith’s horoscope.

“‘ _ Yesterday might have been tough on you, so remember to take a break. Don’t let a failure stop you from trying again, because you may succeed the next time. After all, in the end, we only regret the chances we didn’t take.’” _

Keith perks up as Romelle pauses. They both look at each other. Romelle is the first to speak. “Seems relevant.”

“That’s… _ I mean _ , that’s coincidence.”

Romelle smirks. “Or maybe the stars are finally—”

“Nope,” Keith cuts her off. “Sure, I had a bad day yesterday, but I’m sure like a million other people did, too. It’s general after all.”

“It’s good advice, nonetheless.”

Keith wants to curse someone. It was  _ excellent advice _ , given that Keith kept wondering at night whether he should even bother searching for other jobs. He thought, like other things in his life, that mechanics was fleeting. That maybe he wasn’t cut out for that.

Romelle suddenly grabs onto Keith’s arm, shrieking. “Dude, dude, you like auto shop, right?” She shoves the newspaper in his face, in the classifieds page.

Keith frowns as he reads. “ _ ‘Window panes for half price, must go quickly _ —’”

“Not that one!” She points at another column.

“‘ _ Looking for mechanic at Marmora Autoshop _ ,” he whispers, eyes growing wide. He can’t even complete reading it. “Marmora?  _ The _ Marmora? The one where my dad…”

“Apply for it!”

“I mean—”

“Keith! Listen to the horoscope! It  _ knows _ what’s good for you!”

“What’s with the jumpy barista?” Taylor asks.

The baristas flinch, not even realizing he had walked in. Taylor is curiously watching them, one brow raised. Keith puts down the newspaper, unable to stop the smile from spreading on his face. “Taking a chance.”

Taylor looks confused. “I think I need context before I start getting excited with you.”

Romelle grins. “Keith’s feeling better and ready to try searching for a job again!”

“Really? That’s great!”

Keith is getting redder by the second and he pushes the overeager girl to make coffee. He tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. “There’s an ad for a mechanic at Marmora.”

“Go on,” Taylor urges. How did he get close enough that the space of the counter seems smaller?

“I know my dad worked there and he loved it. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before, but it seems like a good bet.”

The next morning, Keith finds his horoscope.

_ ‘You should be proud of yourself for fighting for what you want, it looks good on you. Keep fighting, keep searching.’ _

This time, Keith checks something else. In the right corner is a name in fine, black print.  ‘ **LANCE McCLAIN** **’**

Keith has to thank Lance McClain one day.

*

A week or so later, Keith is shrieking with Romelle because he got a call early in the morning from Marmora. The boss, Kolivan, was impressed by his resume and wanted him to attend a few sessions here and there before he can begin in a month’s time.

When Taylor walks in looking like a legit snack in grey cardigan and black slacks, Keith practically throws the news at him and then Taylor is celebrating with them, buying the three of them a sweet cream puff each.

Keith is stuffing his mouth with the puff when he looks up. Taylor is smiling at him fondly.

“I’m proud of you, Keith,” he says.

Keith’s entire body burns with the sincerity. If only he had Taylor when he was struggling as an orphan, maybe he would’ve been better, but as his horoscope says, ‘ _ be thankful for what you have. Don’t look back with yearning like it can change. Focus on the here and the now.’ _

So, Keith focuses on the now. He leans forward and his heart beats as he brushes a kiss on Taylor’s cheek. Taylor stiffens before his face breaks out red and he squeaks bashfully. It is the most adorable thing he has ever seen.

*

Okay, so there’s something going on…

Keith hates to admit and Romelle loves to, but that horoscope…it’s bewitched or something.

However, this… _ this _ takes the cake.

Romelle laughs loudly as Keith frowns at the newspaper, reading the sentence over and over again.

_ ‘The love of your life is wearing a caramel sweater.’ _

That’s all it says.

“This has to be a joke,” Keith mumbles.

Like clockwork, the bell chimes, and Taylor strides in hurriedly, hair a mess and dark circles under his eyes. “Romelle, can you be extra quick with the drinks? Like, one minute quick?”

Romelle and Keith are staring at Taylor.  _ Hard. _

Taylor rubs his face and finally notices their shell-shocked looks. “Romelle? Please, I’m super late, my friend can’t drop me, and I have to run all the way to work and I need this coffee, please.”

“On it, boss,” she replies instantly and goes to work. Not without shooting Keith a wide-eyed look.

Keith gulps as Taylor hands him the cash and straightens out his clothes. His  _ caramel sweater _ that is crumpled and weather worn.

“Um, Taylor?” Keith squeaks.

Taylor has the patience to smile even as he taps the counter and continuously checks his watch. “Yeah?”

“Where’d you get the sweater?”

Taylor looks down at his caramel sweater and grimaces. “Not my first choice, I know I look like a mess.”

Keith pauses. Surely Taylor put himself up to this? This isn’t…this  _ can’t _ be…

When has his horoscope gone wrong in the past month?

“What made you put it on today?” Keith asks.

“What’s with the obsession with my old sweater?” Taylor snaps and Keith falters but then the man is cupping his face and groaning. “I’m sorry, that was rude. It—it’s just been a rough couple of days and my neighbor’s dog decided to maul me just as I’m leaving so I threw on the first thing that I saw, and it’s raining and my boss can’t give me a lift like usual because she’s taking an off day.”

“Two coffees!” Romelle declares and slides it along the counter.

Taylor takes a second to stare at the two cups before he curses. “Damn it, Allura doesn’t need this.” He gives it back to Keith with an apologetic look. “One of you can take it, thanks, guys.” Taylor is just about to bolt out when Keith stops him.

Keith plucks his umbrella from a spot in the kitchen and he hands it to Taylor, whose mouth is parted in surprise. “For the walk,” Keith mumbles, pushing it into Taylor’s hand.

Taylor yanks onto the umbrella and it sends Keith sliding along the counter. Quickly, Taylor smacks a kiss on Keith’s cheek and shouts his thanks as he bolts out into the rain, snapping out the black umbrella before he disappears.

Keith isn’t  _ breathing. _

He keeps an open mind the rest of the day. Surely a horoscope can’t be right about this, but turns out, only two people wore caramel sweaters that day and he’s pretty sure it isn’t the grandma knitting in the corner.

Romelle makes a questioning sound as they finish their shifts. “So, I think that horoscope is telling you something.”

“That I have a stalker?” Keith asks dully.

“Or that things are finally falling into place!”

Keith thinks things like that are too good to be true. Maybe Taylor was put up to it or something because that was… something  _ unnatural _ . The horoscope in the past couple of weeks has helped him so much. More than he realizes because they are encouraging and good and they  _ fit  _ him so well it doesn’t feel real. He depends on it these days as a pick-me-up.

He wonders when his luck will change.

*

__

_ ‘Flowers speak when words cannot. A sunflower for good luck can change your day.’ _

Keith only has two minutes the moment he reads those words. Instinct-driven, he finds himself at the flower shop across the street and praises everything up there that it’s open and he buys a small bouquet of three sunflowers. He dashes back just in time to collide with Taylor’s back as he enters the coffee shop.

Taylor yelps and turns around, but he freezes. His eyes drift from Keith’s red face to the sunflowers in his hand before a smile breaks out over his face.

“Those are cute,” he comments. “For someone special?”

Keith turns into a blushing mess as he returns to the counter and tucks it near the register. “It’s nothing.”

Taylor shrugs, winking at Romelle as she gets to work. “I wouldn’t say it’s nothing. The cute barista I like brings my favorite flowers?”

“Those are your favorite?” Keith parrots like an idiot.

He reaches a slender, brown finger to play with the bright yellow petals. Taylor purses his lips. “You didn’t pay attention to the rest of my sentence, did you?”

Keith’s brows furrow as he tries to recall it and he sees Taylor hide a smile.

_ ‘…barista I like…’ _

“You—you like me?”

Taylor tilts his head cutely. “Depends. Who are the flowers for, Scorpio?”

“For— _ for you! _ Definitely for you!”

He laughs with Romelle and Keith is mortified, but then Taylor somehow turns flirty, eyes glinting and lips curving deviously. “So, is that your way of saying you want to take me out?”

Keith nods wordlessly.

“Usually, I’d prefer a pick-up line or some romantic gesture where you ask me to date you by hiring a plane to write it in the sky.” Taylor shrugs. “But for you, I’ll make an exception.” He takes a pen from his shirt pocket and jots down his number on a napkin. He slides it to Keith, whose eyes have gone wide. “Text me?”

“Okay,” Keith says. Romelle slides the drinks and as Taylor walks out, he suddenly gets the courage to blurt out, “A flower can’t bloom without sunlight, and that’s exactly how I feel without you!”

Taylor screeches to a halt and it takes a moment for him—a  _ terrifying _ moment that Keith feels time has abandoned him—before he turns on his heel and marches forward, puts his coffees down, and grabs Keith’s collar.

He tugs Keith forward, and just when their noses brush and Keith’s cheeks turn red hot, Taylor whispers, “And if I had a garden, I’d put our tulips together.” And then he kisses Keith.

Time has indeed abandoned Keith and he doesn’t mind at all if it means Taylor kisses him like this, soft and gentle but passionate, cupping Keith’s cheek and tilting his head so that their lips slot perfectly.

When they part, Keith’s heart is thudding too hard and fast when Taylor mumbles, “So fucking perfect.”

Taylor finally leaves the shop. The second he’s out of sight, Keith grabs onto the counter as his knees go weak and shuddery under him. Romelle is squealing.

“Keith!” She shakes him. “That was  _ so  _ romantic, oh my god!”

Everything tunes out as Keith relives that amazing kiss, his hand clutching hard onto the napkin with Taylor’s number on.

Keith sighs dreamily. He can’t wait for tomorrow.

He really needs to meet Lance McClain one day.

*

They go on a date and it’s fun and perfect. It’s everything Keith wants because Taylor is lively and such a gentleman as Keith takes him on a date. It’s not expensive, given his current salary—but knowing his future salary at Marmora means he can give Taylor so much better dates—so even a movie and dinner date is good.

Taylor dresses casually, but Keith can’t say he’s sorry to see those slacks gone, replaced with tight skinny blue jeans that really leaves little to the imagination.

And Taylor is great. He’s the best person Keith has met who can handle Keith’s quiet spells and drag Keith comfortably out of it. His bright smile and goofy attitude break down a ton of walls and when Keith asks about him, Taylor says he works at a publishing company. He tells Keith about his huge family and his friends.

Keith sees himself loving Taylor. It isn’t so right now but it is so wholly possible.

His horoscope the next day: ‘ _ Keep working to put yourself out there. You’re doing a fantastic job and every moment you share with your special someone is a moment you’ll look back with a smile. So, don’t hold back and take a leap of trust.’ _

Keith tells Taylor about his obsession with conspiracy theories and surprisingly, Taylor takes it with a large grin and encourages him to keep talking until they part for the day.

After he leaves, Romelle says that Taylor is a keeper.

Keith wholeheartedly agrees.

*

When Keith loses his cat, Red, one day—the little bastard snuck out of the house when he was leaving— Keith is tense and scared and puts up flyers all over the streets because that’s his cat, his  _ friend, _ his companion. It shows when he goes to work frazzled and anxious. Romelle tries to comfort him and Taylor does his best to appease Keith over the days, telling him he’ll help out wherever needed.

When he has the five-minute break, Keith seeks security and drifts to the newspaper tucked under the counter. He grabs it with a snack and hides in the kitchen. Under Scorpio, it says, ‘ _ It hurts to lose something or someone you love, and you wonder if you will never get them back in your life, but don’t fret too much. Don’t be afraid to reach out for help in any way you need. Don’t lose hope.’ _ It reassures him a little and he evens out his breathing before returning to work.

The next day, Taylor doesn’t show up.

Keith tries not to feel disappointed. They aren’t exactly dating right now. They went on only a few dates and he is sure he wants to date Taylor but now he has his cat on his mind.

Instead, a woman enters the coffee shop. She has brilliant silver hair that is neatly braided into a bun and Romelle’s jaw drops because that girl knows a beauty when she sees one. In a posh British accent, the woman asks for one coffee.

Romelle blushes when the woman makes eye-contact, and she ducks her head. When Keith asks for a name, she says,  _ “Allura.” _

“Oh!” Romelle starts as Keith hands her the coffee cup to fill. “So, you know Taylor!”

Allura’s brows knit. “Sorry, who?”

Keith looks up from the sunflowers jammed between the register and the wall. “Taylor; he says you’re his boss. He brings coffee for the both of you every day.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know any Taylor,” Allura murmurs in confusion and Romelle and Keith exchange bewildered stares. Allura perks up. “I do know a Lance, though! I usually drive us here before work and he picks up the coffee before we leave. Isn’t his boyfriend here?”

It’s Keith’s turn to frown. “That can’t be right. Unless… is Lance tall? Dark skin with blue eyes? Curly brown hair and long legs that could chok—”

Romelle coughs loudly and Keith startles out of his thoughts. Allura looks amused as she nods. “Yes, that’s Lance.”

Keith’s eyes fall onto the open newspaper on the counter as he purses his lips. “Lance… _ McClain?” _

“Yeah, that’s him. He works under me for  _ The Altea Daily!” _

“Let me guess,” Keith continues grimly. “He writes the horoscopes.”

Allura pauses. “Even I can tell this is a strange conversation. Why do you know Lance as Taylor?”

Romelle gasps loudly. “Oh my  _ god _ , that makes a lot of sense now!”

Keith pinches his brows. “Yeah, it does.”

*

The next day comes with a surprise.

Keith is still worried because that’s the five-day-mark since Red hasn’t come home and he can only hope his cat is alive. He hasn’t even slept, gone home after searching the streets by midnight. He knows he looks dreadful and Romelle does her best to tie up his greasy hair and he tries to get through the exhausting full day shift he has.

Taylor doesn’t show yet again, but it’s at the end of their shifts that the bell chimes as the last customer for the day.

When Taylor walks in, Keith doesn’t yet look up, instead choosing to fuss over the tissue rack.

There’s a soft meow instead of a cheery good evening.

Keith snaps up so hard his vision whites out for a split second. In Taylor’s arms is his beloved Red, struggling and writhing as the man hurries to the counter. The cat hisses before being dropped and Taylor looks relieved.

“So, that cat is  _ kind of _ a demon,” he laughs nervously, eyeing Red as he sniffs the counter curiously. “But  _ ta-dah!” _

Keith instantly grabs his cat and cuddles him. Red purrs loudly, bumping his chin lovingly as Keith croons. “God, you stupid cat. You had me so worried.” He pulls the cat and holds him up from under his limbs, a stern expression taking over. “If you ever do that again, you mangy idiot, I’ll get another cat.” He goes and turns the sign to ‘ _ Sorry, we’re closed.’ _

He still brings Red back for another cuddle session. Keith hears a snicker and he looks up from Red’s fur to see Tay- _ Lance _ giggling at the sight. “How did you find him?”

_ Lance _ shrugs, leaning over to scratch Red’s head but he receives a swipe of claws. Instead, he pecks a kiss to Keith’s lips. “I have connections; Told everyone to keep a lookout and let me know. My buddy down near the 7/11 found Red scrimmaging in the garbage so he called me.”

“No wonder he stinks,” Keith mumbles. “Thanks, Lance, this means a lot.”

“It’s no problem at all. Especially since I got to see your smi—” Lance freezes, face paling. “What did you call me?”

“Hm? I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, you did. You called me Lance.”

Keith narrows his eyes. “That’s  _ your name, _ isn’t it? Lance McClain.” He waves the newspaper. “Does the horoscope section sound familiar to you?”

Lance looks petrified. “Okay, okay, listen, Keith, I swear I didn’t mean for this to get far.”

“I mean, it’s not like you lied about yourself when you dated me, right? Nope, only your name. Not like that’s one of the most  _ important _ parts.”

“Keith—”

Keith puts Red down and faces Lance. “I’m not upset,” he clarifies, seeing Lance sweat. “I just wanna know why you’d lie. Especially about the caramel sweater shtick.”

“Oh, my day was as bad as I told you. I was supposed to wear this really cute, brand new caramel sweater but because of that dog I had to change and the ratty one was the only other I had.” Lance pauses, smile falling. “You read the horoscope,” he shamefully mumbles. “Just didn’t want to, you know, make you think I was rubbing it in or anything. I mean, I know it looks bad because you’ve been reading it in front of me tons of times, but I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like some idiot who writes  _ horoscopes  _ for a living.” Lance utters, covering his face. “God, I just wanted to impress you, see what you thought about it and it wasn’t supposed to get so far but by the time I was ready to tell you my name, it felt like you knew Taylor more than Lance.”

Keith’s eyes soften. “Alright, aside from the fact I feel so embarrassed reading that stuff in front of you, I want you to know that just because your name is different doesn’t change whom I’ve been going out on dates with.”

Lance perks up, long fingers peeling from his face. When he realizes Keith really isn’t mad at him, he sighs. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“You kinda already have,” Keith mumbles. When Lance makes a questioning sound, he elaborates. “It helped. Everything you wrote, I’m guessing it was for me? Yeah, well, it helped a ton. Got me through shit, alright?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t hurt that that’s about the most romantic thing someone’s done for me.”

Lance gains confidence by the minute. “Wait till you see tomorrow’s, then.”

Keith shakes his head, smiling. “I just want one apology dinner. Right now. I’m starving.”

“Anything!” Lance says as they walk out of the shop, leaving Keith’s manager to lock up for the night. Red perches on Keith’s shoulder. “How about take-out and rest at your place? Red looks impatient.”

Keith nods happily, and as Lance slings a hand around his waist, Keith knows he doesn’t need that horoscope column anymore if Lance is by his side.

  
  
  



End file.
